o b l i v i o n
by CrossoverQueen
Summary: Once you're in Oblivion, you never get out. [AxelRoxas, Alternate Universe]
1. Oblivion

**Oblivion**

**Note:** After being given a copy of Toni Morrison's _Beloved_ to read in Advanced Placement English, I got this weird, demented idea for a Kingdom Hearts AU. And that's all you really have to know, in my opinion. However, I personally think you should read _Beloved_ at some point, as it IS the inspiration and is also one of the best examples of American literature.

This doesn't contain all-out _horror_, per se, but it does involve murder (courtesy of Axel), underage sex (which is a given with AkuRoku and sometimes Sora/Riku/Kairi), and traces of various disturbing elements. Even I had a problem writing it all down--not so much because I was squeamish, but because I saw everything in my head and had to literally replay it so I could get everything down right.

Because that's how my mind works.

-  
Castle Oblivion.

Say that name, and anyone in the Destiny Islands can point it out to you.

If you follow their directions--_go as far west as you can, you'll know it when you see it_--you will come across a house--not big, not small, neither fancy nor a mess--sitting in what probably used to be a clearing before the grass and trees went wild. You'll stop and stand, or lean, or sit on something, and wonder just how _this_ used to be a brothel--of any sort. Because along with their directions, the people will also tell you bits and pieces of Oblivion's history.

See, Oblivion _used_ to be the most well-known brothel in the Destiny Islands. Ansem Xehanort, likewise, was among the richest people living here. He owned it.

Go up to someone else, and they might help you scratch the surface of Oblivion. _I remember hearing stories about Oblivion_, they'll say. And if you ask further, they will tell you what they remember.

Everyone who "worked" at Oblivion (twelve in all, no more no less) had X in their name. And not normal names like Alexander or Maxine--names like Zexion, Larxene, Marluxia, Axel, Demyx. Made-up names that ring like bells and stick like needles in your head.

Everyone who worked at Oblivion wore black. Not like black-leather bodysuits or anything; just your average floor-length trenchcoats over whatever they wore underneath. _Couldn't see anything unless you paid for it_, some might joke.

The uniforms and the strange quality of the names sparked the curiousity of local conspiracy theorists. Somehow, they came to the theory that the brothel was a cover for an organization of assassins--that by night, the black leather robes were just for customers with a trenchcoat fetish, and by day they held weapons and poison in their floor-length, not-quite-skin-tight folds.

_But why is it empty now_? You might ask. _Did an accident happen_?

_No accident_, they say. _And Oblivion isn't empty yet_.

_What, is it haunted_? you smile.

_Only one ghost_, they answer. _He was the last one killed before __Naminé__ got saved by Sora and Riku._

_So she... Naminé__... lives by herself?_ Something about her name makes you feel strange--like there's a missing syllable or two--but you ignore it and go on.

_She won't be alone even if she's the last one living in Oblivion. He promised he'd never leave her, and he's mad because he was killed in front of her._

_That's... sad_, is all you can think of to say. _But if she's not the only one in Castle Oblivion, who else lives there_?

_Axel_, they tell you, and the conversation is finished.

So you stand there, just beyond the invisible reach of the not-fancy-not-run-down house, and look at what used to be the Castle.


	2. happens again

**lightning eyes**

They say Ansem used to kidnap teens off the street before an imaginary quota was reached and he kept it at twelve people. Nobody really knows why, and everyone invents their own madcap theories about undercover assassins and brainwashing/hypnosis/what-the-hell-ever.

Parents used that--even though it hadn't happened for years--in a combination of guilt-trips and compliments to make their unruly teens come home early. _I don't want you trapped in Oblivion with no clue you're even a prisoner! He could grab you while you're walking home or trick you into getting a ride, you know he only takes kids like you!_

And the kids would swallow their pride and go home amidst sniggers and jokes. Why?

Because for all they know, their parents are right. It's the perfect story, really--a string of kidnappings happen, people go to the police and ask them _please find my brothersistercousinfriend, it's been daysweeksmonths and I haven't even gotten a lettercallmessage, what do I do?_ and it builds until suddenly, a brothel called Castle Oblivion starts up. And the police notice that the number of people (not counting the owner) match the number of missing persons. Exactly.

But they keep quiet about it and reassure the frantic siblingfriendguardian that their loved one will be okay, stranger things have happened and whatever.

But one day, the kidnappings stop. And Castle Oblivion, over time, becomes the most well-known--and popular--brothel in the entire Destiny Islands. So well-known you don't even have to say the whole name for people to know what you're talking about.

_Oblivion_. Ringing in your head like the names of its twelve prostitutes.

So over the years the searches halt, the missing ads go down, and the grief stops as well because if nobody finds them after this much time, what point is there to hold on to them?

Until now.

Now, two students have gone missing out of the blue--nabbed somewhere between home and school--and everyone is _going crazy_. Their parents are stricken, their friends are numb with shock, and the police have no idea what to do because _this happened before_.

And strangely enough, there's no sightings of them, either at Oblivion or anywhere else--either someone is doing a damn good coverup for murder, or there's a new psychopath on the loose with an eye for blondes.

-  
Somewhere in a messy, curtains-drawn, darkish room on the second floor of Oblivion, a redhead wakes up from various bits of dreams that he doesn't particularly care about.

And two eyes--piercing, blue-like-lightning eyes--glare back at him.


	3. like lightning and nails

**one like lightning, one like nails**

So Axel gets his blue-lightning wake-up call, and for a moment he draws an absolute blank because _nobody has those eyes_.

"Christ, kid, no need to kill me," he says as if he always wakes up to someone glaring at him. But the eyes don't change, just move a little to keep contact with his own.

"Aren't you the one who kills people?"

He laughs, not only at the misconception that keeps following them around but at the bitter-sullen voice that comes out of the blonde blue-eyed kid. "Hell no. The only person close to an assassin is Larxene, and only when she's not strung out or drunk. How'd you get in here anyway?"

"Ansem put us here and told us to shut up."

"Us?"

The kid bristles when he looks around, finally realizing that there are three people in the room and not two.

And there she is--blonde and blue-eyed like him, but with paler hair and eyes with more blue than lightning. She's wearing white--every inch of her clothes is blank-canvas white, from her spaghetti-strap dress to her summer sandals. He wonders how he could miss her--she's like a signal flare in his mostly-dull room.

"And what's your name?" he asks no one in particular.

"Naminé."

Naminé. Naminay, he thinks phonetically. A name in. Name in a.

In name, a ------.

Blank. There's a gaping hole in her name, and that's why he couldn't see her before.

"So how'd Ansem find you?" The question is for Naminé, but the kid answers instead.

"He didn't. He just drove up and dragged Naminé in, so I went with her."

"There must be some reason besides your looks that kept him from shooting you for that. Ansem never takes two people at a time."

"Naminé yelled for me, so he took me too. And I'm Roxas."

"Worst mistake of your life. Roxas," he adds. "Once you're in Oblivion, you never get out."

"I know. I heard the stories. But I'm staying with Naminé."

By then Axel figures that they're not a couple; they could be cousins, friends--hell, they could be twins for all he knows. If they were a couple, there would be more fear, anxiety, more what's-going-to-happen-to-us, but instead there is just Roxas' sullen protectiveness and Naminé's blank fragility.

But even with no lightning, her eyes are almost like Roxas'--ten-fathom eyes that pin him to the spot like nails. So he looks between them as silence falls--one eye shoots him like burning-pure-blue lightning, the other drives nails through him and makes him feel like he's bleeding.

And he thinks, _No wonder Ansem picked them_.


	4. and everyone comes back

**and everyone comes back  
**  
Everyone is dead now. Demyx, Saix, Zexion, Vexen--they're all twelve dead and gone and buried, and so are the rumors, the whispering, and Ansem himself. Heart attack eight years ago.

The only ones left now are Axel and Naminé, and that means Roxas is dead and buried too.

But he's not gone like the others. Even dead and lacking much of his corporeal body by now, he won't break his promise to Naminé. So he hangs around and scares people and throws things around now and then because he's still mad at Axel for shooting him.

"I did it to save you," Axel tells him when another door slams itself shut before he can get into the room. "If you knew what working here was like, you wouldn't be throwing hissy fits all the time."

"He won't listen, you know," Naminé says as Roxas turns sullen again, like he was when they first showed up at Oblivion. "All he knows is that you killed him. I don't think he's heard anything you said to him after that."

_--I'm sorry--  
_  
"He's listening," Axel corrects her. "He just doesn't care anymore. About me, anyway."

Roxas gets smug, and Axel almost hears him say _Damn right, bitch._

With crossed arms and smirking mouth and lightning eyes.

-  
Something changes one day, either Wednesday or Tuesday or Saturday, and Roxas is restless but not irritable like he usually is. He's probably reminded of something, like Axel is every day--when he's not reminded of something just by _being_ in Oblivion.

He never understood why Naminé bothers to stay when her parents would have welcomed her back home after going missing for at least a year.

Axel found Riku's blindfold once, somewhere on the second floor where it was probably lying since ten years ago.

_Nobody asked questions when Riku came to work here, out of the blue and with no explanation other than "Ansem told me to work here." It wasn't their business, and frankly nobody cared as long as he didn't screw up too much. _

They also don't ask why every one of his customers are either redheads or brunettes, never blonde or blackhaired. Axel notices, though, and he accidentally-on-purpose strikes up a conversation about it.

"Keep that up and people are gonna be dying their hair to get noticed by you," he grins brightly.

"Is that a warning?"

"No, just an observation. Miss them, don't you?"

"Don't screw with me, Axel."

"Can and will--**I'm** a redhead." The grin widens as he motions to his own fiery-red hair. One shade brighter and someone's eyes are gonna burn.

Riku's sea-green-blue-eyes narrow defensively.

"I really can't blame you for your hair fetish--I bet they'll be lookers in a couple of years. And you're not too bad yourself, you know; I say you grow your hair out."

"Thanks for the compliment," Riku says bitingly. Then he leaves.

The memory stops there because Naminé is opening the door and three familiar-but-different figures come inside.

Roxas jerks like he's been shot again, and Axel can see why.

Standing in front of him, nonchalant and talking with Naminé as if he didn't feel the house get shot, is Riku.

The one who got out.


	5. with memories in their pockets

"You grew out your hair," is all Axel says. He figures he shouldn't say "Jesus Christ, you must have been _jailbait_," especially since it's been ten years since they were in high school, but Riku glares at him as if he did.

"They say Oblivion's haunted now." His voice is different, too--not that much deeper, but it resonates like a well-tuned dreadnought guitar (Demyx wouldn't have liked him thinking "one of those huge-ass guitars") and there's some sort of effortless lilt that draws you in.

"You bet," Axel grins. "Just one ghost, though. He's probably surprised to see you all--who the hell would want to go _back_ here?" He asks seriously, subtly bracing himself in case Roxas tries some of his poltergeist shit. He's gotten too many bruises to count from randomly thrown objects, and there was this one time Roxas tipped a grandfather clock on him a couple days after his funeral.

-  
_His strangled shriek of pain brings Naminé into the room, where she finds Axel on the floor underneath a grandfather clock. The glass broke from the impact and Axel can barely keep the clock from crashing the rest of the way down to his ribs._

_"Oh, God--Axel!" She heads over and tries to heave it back up, but the blood from his cuts is making it slippery and he can't help her that much because the pendulum's sort of crushing his stomach. Roxas is probably sitting on the damn thing just to make Axel hurt--the pendulum can't be more than three pounds._

_"Ambulance…" he chokes, and they manage to heave the clock onto his side. Naminé nods and heads for the phone. "Wait, no!"_

_"What?"_

_"No ambulance--I'm fine," Axel lies, and Roxas screams and kicks him hard enough for something to bruise._

_Naminé calls the ambulance, wiping her hands off while she dials._

_His blood leaves red smudges on her skirt, and for some reason Axel wants to apologize._

-  
Nothing happens this time, though, and Axel can almost see him staring in confusion. "Well look at that--you've thrown him for a loop," he remarks, and Roxas recovers enough to kick a table upstairs.

"Hey--if Naminé's here, where's Roxas?" Kairi asks.

"Dead," Naminé answered. "Not gone, though--he promised he'd stay with me."

"So he's…" Kairi's eyes widen, and Axel remembers that she wasn't actually there when it happened.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine--I'm the only one he hates," he reassures. Riku glances at him, the sort of concerned-knowing look that would be too close to pity for anyone else, and he's kind of glad for it.

"He's just mad at you, Axel. There's a difference." Naminé corrects him. The house shrugs, floorboards creaking with indifference as she leads the trio inside with a smile.

Axel doesn't pay attention to their small talk, lounging in the kitchen to talk to Roxas instead. "So, Mr. Poltergeist--you don't hate me?"

The silverware drawer is wrenched out and its contents are dumped on the floor, but it's only out of habit: Axel can tell because there's the reluctant admittance that Naminé is right, underneath his standard annoyance. Then Roxas sits next to him, not even attempting to hit anything, and gives the cough-sob that some people make when they're worn out.

"I don't hate you, too."

_Don't __**say**__ it like that,_ Roxas pleads. But Axel will never take it back.


	6. That pint of shame

They always say that you can never leave Oblivion, but the trick is figuring out how it keeps you. This is not a fairy-tale castle, where the spell must be broken or the guards defeated for everyone to live happily ever after.

Axel tried the last one, and all he got was a bloody house and twelve counts of manslaughter. Weirdly enough, people didn't start howling for his blood--the jury must have bought his insanity plea. Besides, who would've missed twelve nobodies living at the edge of the island?

They didn't even care about Roxas after all was said and done; their parents made a show of mourning their dead son, and being so extremely _grateful_ to Riku and Sora "for at least saving Naminé," but when the cameras stopped rolling they shut up and stopped visiting his grave.

-  
"Do Roxas a favor," he says when he encounters them at the cemetery, ten years overdue for a visit. They are genuinely startled, and Naminé's mother steps back. "Stop pretending you care."

"Who are you to say that about my son?" Naminé's father asks indignantly.

"He never talked about you two for a second," he informs them. "Three-hundred-and-sixty-five days--not a single mention of Mommy and Daddy and what they'll do to that mean scary Ansem."

"Roxas was never that talkative in the first place," Naminé's father feebly argues, but stops when Axel clearly doesn't buy it.

"Yeah, well--even I knew when he just didn't care about something."

"You're one to talk," Naminé's mother says, and he can hear a prototype of Roxas' voice in her clipped bitterness. "If you knew him so well, then why did you kill him?"

It stumps Axel for a moment, but he flashes an achingly straight-razor grin. "Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief--for the rest of us, death will be relief."

He'd always liked Sweeney Todd, but Naminé's parents bolt as fast as their bright clothes will let them.

-

As usual, Roxas' grave is unattended. The flowers are so dead that they're crumbling in the wispy breeze of his trenchcoat. If it were anywhere besides a cemetery, Axel bets that even the grass would be wild and unmanaged.

"Hey, man."

No answer. He can't even feel Roxas' presence--he's probably still at Oblivion, worn-out and halfhearted like Axel.

"So, I wanted to go out for something besides groceries or beer," he continues easily, "and even if you're still pretending not to care, I just want you to…" The rest of the words stick in his throat for some reason.

"Know…" Ten years--ten fucking goddamn _years_ and he still can't say it.

In typical rub-it-in fashion, Roxas finally comes over. There is a long, awkward silence as Axel struggles to keep going, with failed starts and stuttering like a teenager on a first date.

"No," he finally sighs. "Never mind."

_Why the hell did you want me here if you chicken out on actually saying it?_

"Shut up, you _fairy_," he snaps, as defensive as a threatened dog, but that doesn't make it any easier.

And Roxas' scornful disappointment hurts more than anything he's ever thrown at him.

-

**Note:** I hope this isn't depressing my readers as much as it is me. Beloved, in my opinion, had this running undercurrent of resentment vs. sadness underneath all the freaky ghost stuff--I've attempted to capture that feeling via Axel and Roxas' dynamics. Is it working?


	7. is taking too long

Axel remembers Naminé's smile on the lone path back to Oblivion, and like her parents the expression is ten years late. Laughing at a joke, whether it's too blatant to _not_ laugh or just one at Axel's expense (jokes at her expense are too much for them both), is not the same as plain smiling--so even a little one like her greeting to Riku, Sora, and Kairi stands out like a candle-flame in the dark.

Why the change after seeing three people drop onto the doorstep? She is as anti-social as Roxas was--just not the bitchy kind. But he admits that seeing the people who kept your temporarily-crazy friend from shooting you would boost anyone's mood.

He would be happy to see _anyone_ after ten years of living with your brother's ghost and the person who killed him, and helping him recover from whatever retaliation Roxas dishes out every week or so. For the first month or so she managed to talk Roxas out of doing _too_ much damage, but eventually he stopped listening.

Their attempts to exorcise him probably didn't help.

-

"This has been going on for _weeks_?!" The lady's voice shrills over the phone, and Naminé winces as she lies.

"You don't understand, ma'am, it hasn't--well, it _has_ been going on for weeks, but this is the first time Axel's actually _told_ me what--"

"I'm going right now. You're on the main isle, right?"

"But it's six in the eve--"

"Shut _up_, give me directions, and let me get rid of that thing before one of you dies!"

_Don't you __**dare**__ let her come here!_ Roxas insists, heaving the couch over in emphasis.

But Naminé is caught between the angry woman on the phone and the angry ghost in the living room, and she sighs and caters to the living person. Western edge of the main isle, you'll have to park a few minutes away because of the clearing.

-  
Two hours later and after the couch is righted, a woman parks just outside the clearing and stalks over to the door. Her silver hair is impossibly long, and it makes her gray eyes flare when Naminé opens the door.

"Hello--I'm Yunalesca, let's get this over with. Will Christian exorcisms work on him?" She is annoyingly, beautifully blunt--a stark contrast to the bleeding-hearts who infest the paranormal trade.

"No. Holy water just makes him mad because they get it on everything." Naminé tells her with an almost-sigh while she shakes Yunalesca's hand, and she grimaces as the woman unwittingly grips her hand too tight.

"Good. My husband's a reverend and he usually gets a priest if the task is too big for him, but he's helping his church right now." The minute she steps through the door, a strange look replaces her irritation--she can see where Roxas is standing, mutely furious at her intrusion. "Your _brother_ is the one putting you two in the hospital?"

"He doesn't hurt me, actually--just Axel. Not that that's any better," she catches herself once the habitual "just" sneaks out.

"Well, I can see why someone _else_ would intimidated by him," she remarks, glaring back at a surprised Roxas. "Where on earth did that boy learn manners?"

_None of your business,_ he snaps, and throws a vase at Axel. Yunalesca ducks reflexively (another thing she doesn't share with her fellows, because they never remember that ghosts are territorial or just angry), but it clips Axel's shoulder.

"_Ow!_ Goddamn it, Roxas!"

"Maybe you should tell me why you're the only one he's going for." Her voice is somewhat softer, but Axel does not trust pity. The pitying ones either think they're the ones to deliver him from evil, or they leave right after he gives them more than a few details.

So he goes for the short version. "This place used to be a brothel. I worked here, and the boss kidnapped Roxas and Naminé so _they_ could work here. But I didn't want that to happen, so I… went crazy… and I killed about half of them."

The others freaked out and attacked Sora when he got there; they died of blood loss or shock before he could do anything, and Axel was still considered responsible for their deaths. Indirect manslaughter or something like that.

"What for?" She knows he's not telling her the whole story, and he hates that because it means she won't be duped into accepting a generic sob story.

"Told you, lady, I am not the _stablest_ person here and I didn't want Ansem to make a couple of _kids_ work in a _brothel_--"

"Everyone hates that thought," she cuts him off imperiously. "You had to go crazy for a reason, and you aren't telling me why."

"Don't!" Roxas' voice manifests in urgency, complete with the deer-about-to-get-shot look. This is as raw as when Riku kicked the door open to save Naminé, and all three of them are avoiding Yunalesca's gaze in hopes that she'll spare their memories, but she stands there as impassively as a statue.

-

"_Roxas? __**Roxas!**__" Naminé drops to her knees and picks him up with difficulty. Her voice is shrill even for sadness, and Roxas stirs faintly. He's not dead--gunshots don't kill instantly, even point-blank. "Don't leave, please don't leave!"_

_Axel is standing there blankly as she cries, and he feels Demyx-Larxene-Luxord-Zexion-Roxas' blood coagulate on his hands. The gun moves shakily towards Naminé, and Roxas shifts like he's trying to get back up--_

-

Yunalesca's mouth is set in a very grim line; she's probably seen the events play out, and all the reasons why. "You don't want him to leave."

Naminé flinches as if she's been hit, and Yunalesca is pretty strong for someone who looks like a model. "It's not that I--"

"_Neither_ of you want him to leave." She glares at Axel this time.

"No, not really." It's a lot easier to talk without a bleeding-heart railing at him for leading on a teenager like that--as if they can change it, or make everything all shiny and new again. Or keep Roxas from throwing things at him.

"Nobody can do anything until you all get your _feelings_ out of the way." She leaves without another word, stopping outside the clearing to tell her husband she'll be back home at around ten--sorry honey, I got carried away and it turns out they've got baggage to sort out. Then she starts the car and drives out of their lives for the moment, with her hair glinting as she looks back towards the house.

There is something like loss underneath Roxas' anger, so he doesn't look at anyone even though Yunalesca already left.

Axel feels kind of bad, because she's better at her job than most people.

-  
**Notes:** Can you tell that I've watched a lot of paranormal shows? An awful lot of psychics are theatrical and loud--I know what they get involved with isn't the most relaxing thing ever, and there are probably lots of normal psychics that we don't watch on TV because they just aren't working with murdered ghosts (or the ghosts of murderERS), but it's a little far-fetched that they can't rein their emotions in just a little. I wanted to use Aerith as a cheerful psychic at first, but I couldn't figure out how to fit in the flashback without breaking out of the story's writing style. Apologies for not giving you Roxas' SuperDramatic!Death, but remember that Naminé's traumatized, Axel feels guilty, and Roxas is... well, _dead_.


	8. without you

_Step. _

_Step. _

_Step._

Riku wakes up to the sound of walking outside his door. For a moment he wonders if it's Roxas, and then he decides it isn't; the walking is too calm, and Axel hasn't gotten anything dropped on him. Axel is the last of them to wake up anyway, so it's not like he'd be going around getting ready at... what time is it?

A glance at the clock to his left: 2:02PM. He buries his head under his pillow; it's way too early for ghost stuff. "Shut _up_, whoever's-"

The voice and whatever it says first is muffled, but somehow he recognizes the next part instantly through the pillow. "Rikhard?"

He shoves himself up, so suddenly awake that his eyes hurt-barely anyone uses his full name. Kairi and Sora went six years not knowing that Riku was just his nickname, and even his mom and dad only used 'Rikhard' when they were mad at him or if they needed to get his attention. He scans the room with bleary eyes, rubs them a few seconds just to make sure; nothing is there besides shadows.

"Aukusti?" He stares at the door, and he's not sure whether he's feeling hopeful or terrified about whether it's going to open or not. Can Aku even do that, or is it only his voice that's left? "You shouldn't _be_ here."

In more ways than one. Aku wasn't shot by Axel, meaning he wasn't murdered, meaning he should be in the cemetery or at home if he ever came back from whatever afterlife he went to.

A fluttering shadow at the window sends adrenaline shooting through his system, and he sees a raven perched awkwardly on the edge. Aku believed in the Celtic gods, and he would always count crows or say hi to them because of some good-luck superstition. One for sorrow, two for...

"Are you that death goddess he worshipped?" Riku asks the raven. He glares at it, and it stares balefully at him in return. "This has nothing to do with my religion and everything to do with reminding me that my twin brother fucking _died_ ten years ago. Sorry if I'm not polite like I usually am-now go away."

The raven croaks at him.

"...Go away, _ma'am._"

"Nice try." She is a tall, black-haired beauty whose dress is covered in blood and grime. Her face is long and severe, and green eyes shine out of it like the sea at dawn. "I don't like this any more than you do, but I can't let him get stuck like that other boy."

"Roxas?"

"Whatever."

He decides to avoid telling her that she sounds uncomfortably like Roxas right now. "You take people's spirits to the afterlife, right?"

"Generally."

"Does that mean you can take Roxas, too?"

"No."

"But-but you're a _god!_" He is through with trying to stay quiet, and he strides over to argue his case only to realize that she's exactly the same height as him.

"And even gods have limits," she tells him, frowning. "All these _feelings_ mucking things up-there's a reason getting rid of ghosts is complicated no matter what religion you follow."

He huffs and crosses his arms. Of all goddamn things to stay the same between cultures...

"Well, everyone dies; you just have to make sure they go to the right place."

Riku backs up out of some irrational instinct (she has _heard his thoughts_) then coughs to get his voice working again. "So, where's Aku now?"

"He's been gone since you answered him," she admits.

"That's..." he swallows the sudden lump in his throat down. "Fine..."

She pats his shoulder awkwardly, and her hand feels like the warm drip of blood. If Riku were less disappointed, he would have shivered at the feeling. "He's glad you kept it, though."

He puts a hand to his neck and lifts a chain with a claddagh ring out of his shirt. The ring is tarnished from years of wear and tear, but the weight of it gives away pure silver. Aku gave it to Naminé, but then he died and she gave it to Riku.

* * *

_"It's just __**weird**__," she apologizes. "I keep needing to remind myself that he's gone, and..."_

_"I'm sorry." He gives her a hug and puts the ring in his pocket, where it lies as heavily as his voice._

_When he goes to the cemetery, he explains it to Aku. The ring dangles from his fingers a few inches above the grass, but somehow he can't make himself let go. This is the only thing he has left of his brother-his room feels too big, the house is too empty, and his parents have stopped looking at the pictures on the shelves._

_He goes to a shop and puts the ring on a chain around his neck, and he never tells Naminé._

_

* * *

_

_I shall never be without sorrow, full of regret as I am; as I am since you died,_

_So shall it be with me as long as I live._


End file.
